Return From Italy
by anonyreaderfan
Summary: One-Shot. Non Canon musing on one possible scenario when Klaus returns from Italy to be greeted with the news that the hunter is dead.


Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

~ X ~

Klaus slammed the door, a ferocious scowl plastered across his face. His ill temper had started on the drive home from the airport. He had no sooner gotten in the waiting car, driven by one of his hybrids, and turned on his cell phone when a call identified from Stefan came through.

He had a premonition something was wrong even as he growled. "This better not be bad news."

Stefan had fulfilled his worst fears. One of his precious hybrids and the hunter were dead. He had sworn violently and cut him off mid conversation. He finally shut off the phone when the annoying pest kept calling and calling.

He strode swiftly into his house only to be met by one of his remaining hybrids.

"He's drinking your booze and we couldn't get ri . . "

Klaus cut him off. "I'll deal with him." He knew who him was without being told.

Anger radiated from him as he walked into the front room. The sight of Stefan half sprawled on the sofa with one of his best bottles of liquor almost empty, not to mention glass rings on the antique one-of-a-kind coffee table, fueled his rage.

He dashed over to grab the vampire by the neck ready to choke the living daylights out of him, stopping only when he realized his hand felt like he had placed it on a lit stove burner. The unexpected heat somehow dampened the flames of his rage.

"What?" His brow furrowed as he pushed Stefan's head back so he could study his face. The green eyes burned feverishly and the vampire was lax in his grip, making no attempt to fight the grasp that left mottled purple bruises on his throat.

Klaus released his hold and waited for the bruises to disappear but they didn't. He could see each imprint clearly.

That along with the burning skin told its own story. "So, you didn't escape scot free from the rescue raid?" Klaus mocked ironically.

As he spoke Klaus ran his hand over Stefan's body. A quick indrawn breath followed by a groan indicated he had found a tender spot. Klaus easily ripped the shirt sleeve open to expose reddish purple, pus oozing cuts on Stefan's left arm.

Stefan, head bobbing with a slight tremor, spoke in fragments as if putting a sentence together was too much effort. "Hunter good. Shrapnel Bomb. Werewolf venom."

Klaus's eyes hardened and his voice was caustic. "So, you have nothing I want to trade for my blood. But then you should have thought of that before you dug your hands into my heart. Guess you're out of luck."

Stefan started to shake his head in denial but stopped as if the movement hurt. "No, not why I'm here."

He made an effort to pull himself together and talk coherently. "Need you to tell Bekka when you wake her."

Klaus's gaze pierced him. He eyed Stefan for a moment before leisurely walking to a sideboard and grabbing a glass. He sat next to Stefan on the sofa, half turned so he could face him. As he poured some of the remaining liquor he berated the vampire. "That's a priceless antique table you spilled my booze on. Ever hear of a coaster?"

Stefan just looked confused as if Klaus was speaking a foreign language. "Sorry." He finally mumbled when the meaning of Klaus's complaint penetrated his fuddled brain.

Klaus leaned back, curious. "So what do you want me to tell Bekka? Provided of course that I ever actually remove the dagger from her."

Stefan solemnly said. "You will. Love her. You always have. Could tell back in Chi . ca .. go." The last word was carefully pronounced as if he was afraid he might not be able to get it out.

He suddenly reached over and grabbed Klaus's arm, almost causing him to spill his drink. "Hey! Careful!" Klaus chastised him.

"Not much time left." Stefan weakly shook his arm. "You need to tell her I'm sorry. I really did love her."

He sank back against the cushions. "I was so empty for so long. I was just empty inside . . searching . . always searching for something. **She** filled that. **She** gave me hope. Made me want to live."

Stefan's eyes were withdrawn, seeing something no one else could see. Klaus intuitively knew from the way he pronounced the word She with such reverence that he had to be referring to Elena.

"Tell her when you woke her up I couldn't . . didn't know . . loved Lena . . loved her . . couldn't go back. That was my crazy time. I didn't like myself." He paused confused. "It was never her Klaus. Tell her . . wasn't her fault. . . my fault. I hated myself for what I was when I knew her . . never against her . . just for Lena. So sorry."

His voice had gotten weaker as he rambled on and he gradually ran out of words. He relaxed, his purpose apparently fulfilled.

Klaus stared at the bottom of his glass for a long time and finally transferred his gaze to the exhausted pain wracked vampire. He felt compelled to ask. "What about Nik? Were you ever really his friend?"

The words roused Stefan and he peered owlishly out of half closed eyes. The fever was burning him up. He swallowed painfully. "Yeah, tell Nik sorry too. He was my friend. My brother. We were the same."

A smile appeared for a moment. "Same thing. Couldn't take the memories when they came back. Wasn't who I wanted be . . not his fault . . mine."

The hybrid listened to the now labored breathing. He irritably swallowed down the last of his liquor. He got up and walked out of the room, only to stop in the doorway. He sighed deeply, exhaling through his nose, as he pinched the bridge. He shouted to the room in general and himself specifically.

"How many times are you going to rescue this ingrate? What hold does he have . . what connection do you feel that you just don't let him die?"

_No, not this time. He's earned death._

He turned and walked back intending to give Stefan a merciful end. He placed his hand over the vampire's heart and started to dig his fingers in.

Stefan came to as Klaus's fingers closed around the organ. A beatific smile lit his features as he whispered. "Make Elena human again."

A roar of rage escaped Klaus's lips. "How can you love that one girl so deeply?"

_What is it about the doppelganger that draws men to her? Stefan . . . . . Elijah. Am I the only one who is immune to their pull?_

_What is it about this man that draws me to him? I've daggered my entire family for less._

He released his grip, pulling his fingers out, wiping the bloody gore off on Stefan's shirt.

He sat again, staring at him. Memories crowded in . . the nights spent drinking and talking with Stefan consoling and encouraging him. Rebekah's happy face gazing lovingly at a handsome, laughing Stefan. Stefan returning the look, holding her tenderly as they danced forehead to forehead. The confidences exchanged. The mutual pleasure in the company of someone who understands and does not judge you.

_You were my brother. You were my brother-in-law. You became family._

Klaus finally acknowledged what he had guessed he had known all along. Stefan was the first outsider that had ever accepted him knowing he was a hybrid. He did not judge him. Did not fear him. Did not falsely flatter him for personal gain. Just accepted him as he was.

_And isn't that the reason I want my hybrids? I had it and I ruined it. Not him._

Klaus had that one insightful moment of clarity but quickly shuffled the blame from himself.

_Not my fault. Mikael's fault. If he had left me alone I would never have had to compel Stefan. I wouldn't have been forced to dagger Rebekah. Mikael's fault. Not mine_.

He sighed and reached over and shook Stefan, roughly rousing the vampire from his stupor.

"I wish you were my real blood brother. I'd just dagger you, put you in a coffin, and bring you out when it was safe."

Stefan looked at him uncomprehendingly and then started to slide back.

Klaus shook his head, disgusted with himself. He grabbed Stefan and pulled him over so the vampire's back was against his chest. He wrapped an arm around Stefan's torso holding him in place. Klaus's double canines protruded, ready to slice his wrist, but as Stefan's head slid over exposing his neck Klaus instead plunged them into the vulnerable jugular.

Stefan's body shuddered violently as the canines pierced his artery, and a new dose of venom spread from the incision. Klaus drank deeply before lifting his head, lips peeled back from his teeth, nostrils flaring. The taste of the fever heated blood, hot beyond human limits, mingled with the cloyingly sweet werewolf venom was intoxicating. No wine, no nectar could match it.

As Stefan convulsed Klaus quickly sliced his wrist and forced it into Stefan's mouth. At first the vampire passively allowed the blood to trickle down his throat. As the cure circulated throughout his body, chilling the overheated blood and destroying the venom, he began to actively suck at the source providing such exquisite relief from his burning torment.

Klaus's eyes closed with pleasure from the suckling. He used his free hand to run it through Stefan's hair and then as Stefan grew more demanding started to pull his arm away. Klaus was amused at the deep growl uttered by Stefan, like a dog protecting a bone.

He easily detached the still weak vampire, pushing him away. Stefan shook himself, recovering quickly.

Klaus heard a commotion at the front of the house. "Let him in." He yelled, knowing immdediately who it was.

Damon rushed in, stopping uncertainly when he saw Stefan sitting on the sofa next to Klaus. His sharp eyes, darting from his brother to Klaus, took in a myriad of tiny details: fresh blood running down Klaus's chin, the torn shirt sleeve, a sticky blood spot surrounding a cut in the shirt over his brother's heart, and fresh blood dripping from the corners of Stefan's mouth.

Klaus merely raised his eyebrows at the puzzled vampire, refusing to explain.

Damon shrugged and smiled his most charming smile. "Got another bottle and another glass? We have things to discuss and plans to make. Have I told you how good I am at planning?"

~ FIN ~


End file.
